


Santa Claus is Coming to Town

by StormLeviosa



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Batbrothers (DCU) Bonding, Brotherly Bonding, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, Damian Wayne Feels, Damian Wayne-centric, Family Feels, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:22:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21944293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormLeviosa/pseuds/StormLeviosa
Summary: It is Christmas Eve and Damian doesn't know what to get his big brother. Luckily a little someone comes along to help on his way to give Darkseid his annual Christmas coal...
Relationships: Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 73





	Santa Claus is Coming to Town

**Author's Note:**

> So it's Christmas Eve, I should be sleeping. But instead I'm writing fanfic. 
> 
> This is completely unedited but oh well, hope you enjoy!
> 
> Please leave kudos or a comment if you like it (it'll be a better Christmas present than whatever I get tomorrow, believe me 😂)

It was Christmas Eve and Damian couldn't sleep. He knew he should: Grayson had told him all sorts of nonsense about how "Santa won't come if you're not sleeping" and it wasn't as if he wasn't tired. Truthfully, he was exhausted; they had cut patrol short because of the snow and even the most hardened criminals didn't seem to want to be out over the holidays, but the days and weeks of unrelenting festive cheer was wearing him down. They had chosen a tree on December first and decorated it the next day. Christmas tunes had appeared on the radio from the day after Thanksgiving and they had found Christmas themed candy not long after. Grayson was ecstatic about the holiday, as he seemed to be about everything. Even Pennyworth had been more cheery of late, his sarcastic remarks spoken with a scarcely hidden smile. Damian did not know why he was finding it hard to be happy when everyone else clearly found it easy.

Finally giving up on sleep, he crept to the lounge, careful to avoid the creaky third step, and stared at the gifts under the tree. They had not been there when he had left for patrol. That meant either Pennyworth or Grayson had put them there while he was in his room. He hadn't got anything for either of them. It was not that he hadn't known he should, it was obvious. It was more that he didn't know what to get. He had not been at the manor for long, did not know either Pennyworth or Grayson well enough to make a judgement on what they would like, and yet... they had got things for him. He could see the name tags, one in Pennyworth's elegant cursive, so like his father's, and one in Grayson's chicken scratch. He could not begin to imagine their disappointment if they received nothing in turn. And they had done so much for him, he could admit to that. They deserved a reward of some kind.

He got a drink from the kitchen and thought about it as he sipped. For Pennyworth, he could gift the painting he had completed last week. It was a landscape of the gardens he tended to so ardently, a simple practice for Damian, a way to experiment with colours. He knew the old butler would appreciate the thought, even if it wasn't the most impressive of pieces. Grayson was harder. It should have been easy to find a gift for him: he liked cereal, Damian knew, and circuses and he was almost freakishly flexible. He was good-hearted and kind and always smiling and Damian had _no idea_ what to give him. It was close to midnight now; the shops had long since closed. He was stuck.

Pacing his room, he discarded idea after idea, watched the clock tick closer and closer to morning. His tiredness had vanished, replaced by a rush of adrenaline and stress. Pennyworth's gift was already wrapped and under the tree. He could easily do a sketch for Grayson, one of his beloved elephants perhaps. But then it seemed so impersonal. He could search online for last minute gifts. But anything you could buy would not arrive and most hand made items seemed tacky or ridiculous. He wrung his hands and looked outside. For just a second the moon dimmed, as if something huge had flown past. He blinked. Then he heard the clattering on the roof.

It took only seconds for him to clamber out his bedroom window and onto the roof. Somehow, despite the slick tiles, an enormous sleigh was perched on the roof, along with 9 reindeer. They were adorned with bells but he had not heard them before. The sleigh was bright red with white trim but he had not seen it. The reindeer tossed their heads warily and pawed at the tiles. Their hooves made a horrible screeching noise and Damian resisted the urge to cover his ears. He stepped closer, gaze at his feet and hands open, making himself seem smaller and less threatening. They allowed him to approach but not to touch them. Damian sighed. They seemed fluffy and perfect for warming his chilly fingers. They were also alone. Damian knew they could not have landed on his roof that way for they were still harnessed to the sleigh. He resolved to wait for their owner to return.

It was not a long wait but Damian was impatient and being Robin did not exactly foster a healthy respect for boundaries. He inspected the sleigh, then stepped closer and, eyeing the reindeer in the periphery of his vision, climbed up to the seat. There was several enormous sacks, all full of gifts, and one full of coal. The front of the sleigh had a compass and various nobs and buttons that Damian did not know the purpose of. He suspected one was some kind of teleportation device. Frowning, he stepped down from the sleigh. All the signs pointed to this being the mythical 'Santa' Grayson had told him so much about, but despite Grayson's insistence on the contrary, Damian knew him to be a figment of the imagination, a fantasy for gullible children. And Damian was no such child. 

He was so lost in thought he didn't notice the man behind him until he spoke.  
"Magnificent, isn't it, my sleigh?"  
Damian turned in alarm and opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. Before him was the very image of the Santa Grayson had described, red coat and all.   
"You're the man they call Santa," he said and the man nodded. "You deliver presents to children who have been good and coal to those who have not." He nodded again. "You know what it is that every child most desires for Christmas." Another nod. "Can I pet your reindeer?" The man laughed, a booming chuckle that had Damian stepping backwards.  
"Of course, young man, of course. Though I warn you, they're mighty skittish." Damian took no notice and ran a hand through the closest reindeer's fur. It was just as soft as he'd imagined. He could feel the man, _Santa's,_ eyes on him and chose to ignore them. "I suppose you want to know what it is you've got this year, Damian." He did not ask how he knew his name: it was Santa after all.   
"Not really. I believe I already know. And besides, I do not need validation from you." Santa laughed again and Damian felt himself grin.  
"Well in that case, I suppose I should be off. Lots of other children in the world to visit and lots in other worlds too." Damian took that as his cue to stop stroking the reindeer and took a step back, wiping his greasy hand on his pants. Santa leapt up into the sleigh and picked up his reins.  
"Wait!" Damian shouted, "Grayson, my brother, what is it that he wants this year? What can I give him to show I appreciate him?" The smile on Santa's face was blinding, his eyes twinkled with glee and perhaps even a bit of pride. He flicked the reins and Damian thought he might leave without answering, but just as he took off, he turned back to him and, with joy in his voice, cried back, "the only thing he really wants is for you to be happy. But if you want something to give, I'm sure a hug wouldn't go amiss!" The next time Damian blinked, he was gone.

When the sun rose, Damian rose with it. Pennyworth had laid out a spread worthy of kings and Damian eagerly dug in. Grayson stumbled in as he was finishing his juice, hair tousled with sleep. There was snow outside just waiting for a snowball fight. When breakfast was over, the three of them made their way to the lounge, where presents lay waiting. Damian didn't much care about what he received. His mind was still mulling over what Santa had said that night. A hug. That was his suggestion? A hug, for the man who had given Damian everything. It did not seem sufficient. And yet, Santa would know. Santa knew these things. He had his own magic that all father's detective skills couldn't figure out. Would it be so bad? They reached the end of the gifts and Damian prepared himself for Grayson's crestfallen face. He rose and approached Grayson, sitting by the fire. Rocking back and forth on his heels, he made up his mind. He darted forward and wrapped his arms around Grayson.  
"Happy Christmas, Grayson."


End file.
